


Empty Gold (Ziam Mayne)

by Thranduils_bxtch



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Military, Military Kink, Prostitution, french kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:37:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3305903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thranduils_bxtch/pseuds/Thranduils_bxtch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once called 'Something Sweet', sorry for any confusion in title change. <br/>Liam and Zayn are both from a small town, their love is sweet and passionate. But Liam leaves for the military and Zayn is left to fend for himself, and finds himself waiting for a boy he's struggling to remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am currently, and haven’t been, a directioner for over a year. I barely keep up with the band at all. So the characters are all based very loosely on their actual personalities; if I make someone do something it is NOT always based on real actions by the person the character is based. If I make someone do, or say something, that offends someone I apologize in advance. I am basing the characters to suit the story and not their actual nature. And I am not directly implying that Zayn Malik or Liam Payne are gay, it is merely for my fictional reasons that they are in this story.
> 
> This story is very slackly based on the movie Brokeback Mountain. I’m taking very basic and simple ideas and feelings of the movie and modernizing them. So if you see similarities, they are in fact, meant to be there.
> 
> I’m watching Hannibal atm so if I write some of the script whoops. Xx

**July 7, 2006 – Florence, Oregon**

 

“I’ve always liked the name Chance.” The darker skinned man could feel the other’s velvet like lips sliding over his skin as the words rang through the air.

It was a continuation of their earlier conversation, one Zayn had almost fearlessly brought up. He hadn’t expected Liam to jump on it with the zest he showed later, it made him almost regret bringing it up.

“Of course you do, you love stupid names.” The rasp in Zayn’s voice over took Liam’s, it was a light comment but dissected you almost hear some sort of defense.

It showed the churning in Zayn’s stomach, the thought of settling down metaphorically brought him to his knees.

He’d brought up the subject of adopting a child for the shock value more than anything. He wanted to see how his partner reacted to being put on the spot of settling down and starting a family. Zayn didn’t expect Liam to tear and choke up, and he certainly didn’t see the passionate love making to be a result of the topic.

“Chance is not a stupid name!”

He could practically feel Liam smiling at him in the dark, in his cheeky, almost childish manner.

Zayn didn’t speak for a moment. He found it difficult to gather words from the storm raging in his gut. “I just don’t like it. I don’t like names like that; the ones with the deeper, more sentimental meanings. I mean, yes, if it was in a different language I might go for it. Like as they say in French,  _Abella_ , it means  _breath_  but also doubles as a beautiful name. But god I hate the names in English that are just so deep and hipster and meaningful. Star is not a fucking deep name. Someone just named their child after a burning ball of gas in the sky.

And god, can you imagine how many times we’d be walking around with that poor child and have to hear, ‘What a Chance encounter!’ I’d have to blow my fucking brains out. And you know on the inside they’d be thinking, ‘What a  _gay_  name. That was such a  _homosexual_  thing to name it. I guess they are just as flared up as the rest of them.” The Arabic boy pulled in a sharp, almost painful breath. He didn’t feel guilty till he felt the heavy weight of his love’s silence.

Zayn hadn’t realized how loud and almost aggressive his voice had gotten over the last few sentences. He choked back a groan, lips opening to give a well-meaning apology he heard Liam pipe up instead.

“Well… No Chance; what names do you like?” Liam’s voice sounded slightly crackled, he’d grown almost timid in the past few weeks. Zayn knew he was hiding something but never mentioned it, for fear they’d have another screaming episode.

They’d fought so much lately, Zayn found himself enjoying Liam’s quiet, self-reserved change of attitude.

“ _Arielle_.”

“It’s French, for what?” Liam traced his fingers softly along the lines of Zayn’s chest, admiring every dip and curve of his flesh. He tried memorizing it with his hands, so he could hold his hand to his face when he grew tired and cold, and feel the boy he loved. Zayn didn’t notice.

“Lion of God, and I’m also a fan of  _Blanchefleur_ , it means white flower. And we could nickname her after that damned  _Harry Potter_  character.” Zayn felt his eyes roll at the mention of the other man’s favorite novels. It was an affectionate sarcasm though. He was trying to settle the rumbling of nervousness in his stomach to match the other’s caring behaviors.

“Fleur Delacour is a force to be reckoned with.” Liam’s soft and joking voice starting wavering as the last few words escaped him; his spirit seemed to be crashing down on him. His mouth opened in closed for a few moments as he struggled to find the right words to say.

He’d known something for too long and was surprised how well he’d hidden it from Zayn. Someone he felt was the other half to his wholesome and already full soul.

Before he’d met the foreign French major, he’d enlisted in what he now saw as his downfall.

Liam hadn’t noticed Zayn speaking until he felt himself shaken out of his mild daze.

“Liam, come on. I thought you loved it when I spoke  _la langue de l'amour_  [the language of love].” Zayn’s voice was lighter, he’d come to a halfway conclusion that in due time he’d deal with his desire to never grow older. In mean time though, he could have a gentle conversation about the possibility of a future child.

To keep from fighting and bickering, Liam had grown timid and mild. But he now felt his old strength returning. He knew what he said in the next few seconds could devastate the man in his arms; but as disgusting as it made him feel… He wanted it to. Liam wanted the news to break Zayn so once again the stronger, but younger boy could hold the over again broken man in his arms and sooth him as he’d done once before.

As much as he hated to admit it, Liam loved feeling more powerful over him. He hated it when Zayn made him feel stupid because he didn’t go to college. They were only months apart age wise, but Zayn made it out to be as if he was a decade older at times.

Pulling in an almost identical breath to the one Zayn had breathed at the end of his short rant, Liam started, “A few months ago, when I was leaving home I signed up for something and I got accepted two weeks ago…”

Before the rest of the sentence came from the younger man, Zayn felt himself seize; he knew the rest of the words before he said them. He’d heard Liam mention  _it_  before. Zayn had ignored  _it_  though, just praying  _it_  wasn’t real and would come between them. It’d hung over him their whole short relationship, like a dark cloud. And now it was raining.

“Please don’t.” Zayn’s voice was breaking now, he felt the once strong vocal cords collapsing as the sobs welled in them.

“I have to.” Liam sat up now, his voice coming out stronger and faster than before. He could see Zayn’s outline in the dark, his thin, but beautiful body shaking slightly as each word hit him like a stone.

“The army accepted me, I’m leaving.” Liam felt the words come off him like a weight that’d been placed on his chest by a stronger force. As much as it hurt to see the man he loved breaking, he still felt that god awful sense of power. He had Zayn in the palm of his hand, a few more words and he could play him like a fiddle.

“When… When?” Zayn was visibly crumbling, though it was dark and the curtains were drawn… It didn’t take much to feel him shaking and fighting back the screams of loss.

“Next week, they actually tried to contact me earlier… But I kinda ignored them. It’s just basic training for a few months, they’re sending me to D.C.” He paused for a moment to collect himself, “But I’m probably going overseas in eleven weeks.”

“Couldn’t you —pull out? Say you’re wounded, god you can’t leave me.” Sitting up now, Zayn turned on the bedside lamp so he could look his partner in the eye. It was funny, Zayn realized, he’d always referred to Liam as his partner. Never boyfriend, he guessed it’d just suit them better. He felt remorseful now though.

“It’s what I want, it’s what I need. And don’t lie to yourself it’ll be best for  **both**  of us. You’ll start teaching, and I’ll get disciplined, my dad might let me back in the house… We could start real lives, with or without each other. Who knows-“

“You were just fucking talking about having a child together, Liam.” Zayn’s stare turned harsh suddenly, so much so Liam felt himself shift against the intensity.

“I want to hold onto you as long as possible. But I’m not going to make you wait for me. I couldn’t do that to you.” Liam smiled at him, as he looked on at the other man’s breaking complexion he didn’t feel the strength and power he’d felt before. He felt weak now’ he hadn’t been able to do the one thing he’d promised himself to do. Protect him. Liam smiled because it felt like his life was crashing and falling apart, he wanted to maintain a false appearance of strength for his love.

“But I would, I would and I will wait. Don’t you want me to?” Zayn felt several tears flow freely down his chiseled features, “I love you.” His voice was cracking and getting squeaky, he didn’t care now. It felt like someone was sawing his body in half.

Sighing gently, Liam took his hand; he’d almost forgotten both of them were naked. It almost felt fitting though, it being such a bare and tender moment. He thought it’d be ruined by the constriction of clothing. He watching one of his own tears slip past his defense and drop onto his bare chest. “I’d love for you to wait, I know already I’ll think of you every waking moment and every time I shut my eyes to sleep. But I can’t live knowing I’m preventing you from living a full life.”

Their lips touched, looking back Zayn didn’t remember who’d kissed who. Liam did though, he knew fully well if he hadn’t he’d have to watch Zayn break completely and he didn’t think he could do that. Not now, not even though he’d thought he could.

With their hands intertwined, they held each other through the sobbing fits that shook and rocked their bodies like hurricanes. They let their defensive barriers down and broke with each other; neither would ever share a moment so beautiful and connected with another soul.

 

-Just wanted to throw in some back story right quick

 

 

**May 26, 2005 – Florence, Oregon**

 

Untangling himself from the younger man, whose name Zayn could barely remember, he scavenged through the room until finding his boxers and pants. Quickly and quietly he slipped on his clothes, it was a usual affair. They’d had had a lovely date and come home to Zayn’s place. Whoever the boy was knew what he was doing though, the 24 year old college graduate found it almost difficult to stand straight without wincing.

He remembered biting the sheets to keep from screaming, but still managing to be loud enough to get his neighbor to thump on the apartment’s wall. The disgusted and angered shrieks from the middle aged man next door brought a smirk to Zayn’s lips and he pulled himself into the kitchen. He’d do as he always did, cook for them and politely ask them to leave. Though he’d greatly enjoyed ‘Liam’s’ time, he felt it’d be inappropriate to pursue the relationship.

Malik didn’t want to other man to think he was dating nothing more than a whore, one he could fuck whenever he wished. Zayn wished to uphold more dignity than that.

He made a simple breakfast of eggs and bacon and was about to go rouse the other man in his apartment when he heard the soft thuds of footsteps.

“Is that for me?”

Turning around with raised eyebrows, Zayn saw him for the first time fully sober, well hungover. He was quiet attractive in a teddy bear sense. He almost found it hard to believe someone like that fucked as dirty and rough as he’d done.

“Yeah, anyone with a dick that good I’d be proud to cook for.” Zayn sent the boy a flirty wink before setting a plate down on the counter. It was pathetic and plastic, and the food on it made him look like he was surviving on food stamps but Zayn didn’t really care what this boy thought of him. He’d just be another name in the back of his mind in due time.

Zayn watched in amusement as the other boy’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink at the comment, sitting himself down he took little time before digging into the meal.

It was quiet for several minutes, Zayn listened; only half interested to Liam eat as he straightened the place up. He didn’t say anything but he had another date in a few hours, this one he was being paid to attend though.

Liam had been a blind date, set up by a friend who noticed her horny half-prostitute friend in need of a good one night stand and maybe more. Zayn found Liam interesting but they wanted different things in life. Liam was looking for the white picket fence deal whereas Zayn wanted to die young, fuck, and be wild in general.

“Last night, you said you were a French major… Can you say something in French for me?” Liam looked up from his pathetic meal with a hopeful look. He wanted something to remember the man, he was hopeful but he wasn’t stupid. He knew the chances of ever seeing him, let alone fucking him again was out of the question.

“ _Quelque chose en français_  [Something in French].” Zayn laughed for a second before starting up again, “ _Vous êtes très beau pour un homme blanc_  [You’re very handsome for a white man].”

After that it was quiet for another five minutes or so, Liam finished his food and gathered his belongings before slipping away. Zayn almost missed his company, he’d been a good kid and a good fuck. He was glad to still have his number in case of a late night crisis, but he felt in his gut he’d never see Liam again.

 

He was of course wrong.

 


	2. Twp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to jump around a bit in this chapter. I’d greatly appreciate if you paid slight attention to dates. Not memorize them, but just get a basic idea of before, then, after. You know, I’m trying not to just throw you guys to the wolves here.

**June 18, 2005 – Florence, Oregon**

**Excerpt from the journal of Liam Payne-**

 

_You told me once you thought nature was beautiful._

_To this, I’d begged you to love yourself; grabbing your hand and the ground below us. I’d spoken truthfully when I claimed the grass, the trees, and the flowers, all of it… Were in you, and they were breaking at your skin to be released back into their once flourishing home._

_You’d laughed at me, figures._

_I was a small town boy. You were some college educated French major about to put resumes in to become a professor._

_But I saw the death behind your eyes, the aching in every step you took. I saw hesitation and a touch of something else (panic, dismay?) when I touched you._

_Something or someone had hurt you once._

_I didn’t press you to share. I needed you to do that on your own._

_But god, I was so fucking in love with you._

 

**June 12, 2005 – Eugene, Oregon**

It was late. But he knew it was the only time the man would see him since his numbers were dropping. But his honest to god reason was he’d fallen in love in a matter of hours.

It wasn’t supposed to have happened that way; no, when Zayn had pictured himself being in love it hadn’t been with a man of high school education. Yes, Liam seemed literate enough, and he was smart in some areas; more than Zayn had expected anyways… The dark skinned man had always pictured himself in Sweden, speaking in a foreign tongue, maybe Finnish, Russian, maybe even Korean. He’d pictured this man, in a full suit speaking back to him, so fluent you couldn’t imagine him speaking another language to begin with.

But this was all wrong. He’d fallen in love in BJ’s Ice Cream Parlor. He’d fallen in love with a man with a mouth full of chocolate donut and combat boots on his feet.

He tried to think about what _made_ him love Liam. But he couldn’t even let the name cross his mind without butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Zayn felt like a schoolgirl.

He’d giggled and laughed at the boy’s jokes, very few had been funny. He had wiped Liam’s mouth and helped rescue his shirt when coffee had missed his mouth. Zayn had felt like he had been on a date with a toddler.

But for some strange reason, he’d loved it.

He didn’t know if it was because he liked feeling smarter, this sick feeling he could put the boy in his place if he dared crossed any line. Or if it was because he was tired of people just as intelligent as he.

That thought bothered him, but it seemed to make the most sense.

Towards the end of college, Zayn had grown restless in classes he’d once loved more than anything. He’d started rolling his eyes at the comments of others in these very classes. Ones he’d been fucked by or even ones he didn’t know. The boys he’d once flirted up suddenly repulsed him.

Seattle had been a big city, for him anyways. At first he could barely get enough of it, going to every restaurant, looking in every shop with this untamable hunger. But the last few months he grew sick of the city. It grew ugly to him. He’d had more intimate conversations with his pot dealer than the men in bed next to him.

The ‘pimp’ that employed him (both Zayn and the old friend hated that term) lived back in Oregon and got a fat check every month. The only reason he’d let his best prostitute go so far from home was because they’d been friends for almost fifteen years.

He was who Zayn was going to see now.

Upon arrival at the shitty apartment complex, Zayn let himself in with a key the younger man had given him once a seemingly long time ago. The place that had once given him a welcoming feeling, now felt like Seattle.

It was furnished with things imported from New York and places Zayn could only dream of going to. The crap apartment building was a front. If anyone became suspicious they’d see where he was living and turn away. Zayn’s closest, and only real friend, was smart.

Not college smart, as he was, but smart.

Zayn heard a rumble in the kitchen and following it, calling out his name in false confidence.

The rustling stopped and he saw him step out of the shadows of the kitchenette, completely naked. A few years ago Zayn would have looked away, blushing like a child. But he’d seen him naked more times than clothed now.

“Harry listen, I know my numbers are dropping and I-“ Zayn wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible and found it unbelievably annoying when Harry held up a finger to stop him in midsentence.

“Don’t ever start a conversation telling me what to do, okay?” Harry smiled the smile he gave to someone he saw as scum, Zayn recognized it immediately and felt the old feeling of nervousness welling inside him.

“I apologize, I just assumed since we were old friends I could speak to my friend, not my employer.” Holding his breath for a moment, Zayn waited to see if Harry would respond, he’d interrupted him once and had walked around with a black eye as punishment for two weeks.

Harry just nodded and sat on the closest chair and motioned for the sofa.

Gratefully Zayn sat before picking back up where he left off, “I’ve been under your employment since I was eighteen… I’m twenty-four, that’s six years. I’ve had more STD’s than I can count. And thank you once again, for paying for all my medical checkups…  But,” Zayn sighed deeply, taking his eyes away from Harry’s only momentarily, “I want to stop.”

Zayn saw Harry’s eyes widen slightly, Zayn saw him sit up, resting his elbows on his knees; breathing softly for several moments before rising to his feet and disappearing at a fast pace into the other room.

He’d left Zayn in silence. This was either good or very bad. Zayn couldn’t decide which.

But just as quickly as he’d left, Harry was back, but clothed now and with two glasses of what Zayn could assume was scotch.

He knew better than to turn down the glass, Zayn took it and waited to drink until Harry was seated once more.

It was silent for several moments as they both raised their glasses to their lips and drank. Zayn barely winced at the strength of the alcohol.

Harry started up the conversation once more, “Why do you want to stop? I know it’s not because you’re tired. I know you too well Zayn, you love every minute of this. The filth, the drama… You love it, more than you’d ever admit. So tell me, what’s making my prized pony want to stop.”

Harry’s head was cocked now, as it normally was when he really meant business. He was smirking, but Zayn could sense the confusion and slight distress wavering off him.

“You’re really not going to believe this, but… I fell in love. And I don’t want the sleaze anymore. I want to leave it behind, I really love this boy. You’re my best friend, and I’m just asking you to understand.” Zayn pulled his lower lip into his mouth and found his teeth biting at it gently.

Harry’s brow furrowed momentarily, “Who would fall in love with a whore?”

Taken aback by the bite in Harry’s comment, Zayn didn’t respond. Liam of course had no idea Zayn was a prostitute. It was hard to miss the fact he’d been around quite a bit, but as far as Zayn knew, Liam had no idea.

Harry seemed to figure this out. He broke out into a fit of laughter.

“He doesn’t fucking know, does he?” Harry clicked his tongue once as he normally did, “God, that’s pathetic.”

“We’re barely together, but I want to stop now before it gets serious and I can’t hide it anymore.” Zayn’s voice was almost a whisper. He didn’t want to fight with Harry, he knew never to speak louder than the other man. But they’d been friends for so long. He was just praying he was humane enough to remember.

They both sat in silence.

It continued for several moments, but it seemed like an eternity to Zayn.

“Fine. You can quit.”

Zayn was taken aback. Way aback. He’d expected almost an hour’s worth of going back and forth, but it was over. In less than ten minutes it was over. Zayn didn’t wait to see if it was just a dream, setting his empty glass down he started to rise, about to thank Harry and leave when he saw the other man raise a finger once more.

“One day I’m going to need a favor. I don’t know what it is yet, but it won’t be small. And no matter what, you’re going to help me. If you don’t I’ll have to kill you and that pretty new toy of yours.”

Harry said with such ease and without so much as missing a beat that Zayn barely processed what he’d said.

He’d never heard Harry talk quite like that, he didn’t really take him that seriously. It wasn’t the first time Harry threatened to kill him. Zayn saw no truth behind the comment so mentally shrugged it off.

“Of course, I’ll do anything for you.”


End file.
